Veiled Emotions {Marauders Era}

BEYOND REPAIR

Actions.

The real protagonists of all lives.

The hidden hands, playing within the universe and shaping the beings inside it however way they want. The reasons why there is nothing concrete, nor foreseen, and why nothing should ever be taken for granted.

‘Actions speak louder than words,’ mortals had said before, never noticing that these Actions created said words, that it wasn’t just a matter of sonority.

These Actions were to be feared, but most human beings never really gave them any of their apt attention. They exploited them as if they were some insignificant necessity to be used everyday and disregarded within a pile of life-trash.

Yet, truth is they are indeed a necessity; something unavoidable to live with because otherwise their enemy, Idleness, would take control, and that wasn’t really preferable to them or to any zeal full of passion. Still, Actions have always been underestimated, overshadowed and overlooked. It pissed them so much, how people could be this ignorant of their existence, not noticing how badly they keep on misusing them or how frequently they are taken for granted.

Hence why Actions started hanging out with a very lovely friend named Consequence, so that she could take over whenever they were so sick of humans using them unwisely. Consequence is special enough to slip itself inside any scene without taking the permission of its director, to the extent of ruining an entire play for just one wrong move, if it wills.

Which is maybe why Consequence is more feared than Actions, and why some started reacting lethargically towards them only so they won’t piss her off.

Yet, those people remain unsaved, because they always forget who lie behind the veils, doing whatever they want whenever they want. The terrible siblings of Actions that have no restraints at all, playing every day mildly until they decide against so. The ones humans have no say or control over, and can ultimately save an entire being, or destroy it with just a flick of thought.

The Subconscious Actions.

And that was the case with Sirius Black’s subconscious, deciding to wake him up at a time when he really needed to be deceased. A decision for his current situation regrettably unavoidable, no matter how much his soul called for release.

Sirius woke up to silence. Silence, accompanied by a mixture of utter warmness and solid coldness. He was used to waking up on silence, but that new feeling, that new mixture indulged within normalcy wasn’t relieving at all.

It felt like a warning. For what, his brain hadn’t quite processed, but it knew that some quick action should be taken as soon as that moment of derealisation ends.

And boy, was his brain correct.

Faster than he had thought himself capable at that moment he sat up and looked around him, observing every single detail of the walls he had helped on recolouring. The house was the source of the warmness; inviting as usual with the householders’ faint aroma. But his brain was quick to notice the other component of the polar combination; the coldness, filling every shallow depression within his bones, morphed as loneliness and seeping from the colourful walls, as if it belonged to the ghosts that suddenly decided to inhibit the place.

And there was no trace of warmth left then despite its evident display on his own body, simply just vanquished by the dominant frigidness.

But Sirius wasn’t afraid of this coldness. He didn’t listen to these ghosts taunting him of his current loneliness, nor did he notice the walls circling him like a prey until his bones were even more crushed. He didn’t even allow himself to breathe in the air that could have potentially suffocated him.